


Gaining Something Is Infinitely More Painful Than Losing It

by orijins



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gintoki doing his best to be a dad, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Yakuza, and succeeding?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28263849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orijins/pseuds/orijins
Summary: He’s at home. Their home.Except he’s not, not really. A part of him is always vedged in the past. He can still feel the cold floor against his cheek. The fingers caressing his temple.„I would hate to sound patronizing, but things could have gone much smoother had you accepted my little proposal.“Or a story where Gintoki has a past, two brats that won't let go of him and a badass dork of a boyfriend.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I don't have a beta so the updates will not be very fast.
> 
> Also, new tags will be added as the story develops.
> 
> I'll warn you every single chapter right here at the beginning.
> 
> Enjoy.

Hot days like this should be spent inside. Or in a pool, preferably. With a cold drink and nothing to do for the entire day. Not in a park walking and old dog at the speed of Gengai’s repairs.

It feels like all the usable air got sucked up and what’s left floating around isn’t nearly enough as a substitute. _Ahh, shouldn’t have drunk so much,_ Gintoki groans inwardly.

Ignoring the bickering between Kagura and Shinpachi, and finally taking another step in what feels like half an hour, Gintoki looks up to the sky. It’s that perfect shade of blue and spotless and frankly it makes him a little bit angry. He brings up a hand to wipe his forehead. There are beads of sweat gathering in his hairline, few of them losing the fight and sliding down the side of his face.

He clicks his tongue and regards the reason for him being awake at this ungodly early hour.

It’s a small dog. Pachinko. Whatever breed that’s got legs clearly too short for its body. It’s obvious the old guy is struggling to keep up a tempo that can be called a walk and the heat isn’t making it any easier. The goal is to let him do his business and get home before any of them get heatstroke.

They finally get to a relatively covered area. There’s a small gathering of trees with a tiny spot in the middle where earth is visible. Pachinko seems to deem it worthy enough, if the minuscule increase in speed is any indication. He circles around a few times and squats. A focused look appears on his face.

And he squats.

Without moving once.

For the next half an hour.

Five minutes in, Kagura squats next to him and smooths the fur on his back lovingly, ignoring Pachinko’s obvious discomfort. „I know how you feel, Pachinko. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about! We all have our bad days!“ Shinpachi’s a step behind her, hands hovering nervously above her shoulders. „Just last week I ate an _entire_ bag of sukonbu and didn’t realize it was spoiled. Ginchan had to take me to a hospital and hold my hand when I was on the toilet because I was scared that I was going to die! _Soo_ much came out and then I had to eat rice for a week ahaha!“

The dog is now visibly shivering from effort.

Gintoki smiles crookedly at an elderly, clearly disgusted couple passing by. He gives them a little wave and they switfly glance away.

He rolls up his sleeves to get some air conditioning going and glances over to Shinpachi, who is now a few steps behind him. The boy is clearly committed to blending in with their surroundings, too embarrassed to function.

Gintoki feels like walking a dog, even an old dog with bowel problems, shouldn’t be this difficult.

Crouching in front of the dog, he pats Pachinko’s head a few times and the poor thing looks at him pleadingly. „Kagura,“ he says, doing his best to put to use a fatherly voice he’s learned from one of the tv dramas Kagura watches every Friday. „we should give this old man here some space. I’m sure he appreciates you relating to him but it’s really not doing much.“  
  
„But what if he needs someone to hold his hand! It’s so hot too, what if he needs something to drink?“

„We gave him plenty of water before we left and he’s a _dog_. I’m sure if he needed to drink he would let us know.“ A disbelieving frown appears on her face. „Now, get up, there’s a bench over here and if I don’t sit down anytime soon I might just end up squatting next to him.“ Kagura seems to consider this before she nods, evidently displeased about leaving Pachinko to his suffering. Shinpachi walks over to her and helps her up, murmuring something about bowel movements and privacy.

Gintoki untugs his shirt from his pants and runs a hand through his hair as he heads over to the nearest bench and flops down on it. Letting his arms hang over the edges, he looks at the perfectly blue sky again. With a long exhale, he wills his body through the remains of last nights hangover. His stomach feels kind of afloat and heavy at the same time, and he’s not sure in which direction that’s gonna go. The kids jump next to Gintoki, bumping into him from both sides with enough force to squeeze a huff out of his lungs.

„It’s too hot for this,“ Gintoki groans, letting his head fall slightly backwards. „Ginchan’s going to melt if you stick to me like leeches.“

Kagura laughs but shows no indication of actually listening, laying her head on his shoulder instead. Shinpachi huffs out an amused something as he watches her and lightly grabs Gintoki‘s arm, wrapping it closer around himself. Gintoki doesn’t have it in him to complain after that.

They remain silent for a while, taking in the summer day around them.

There’s a soft breeze blowing through their hair, cool against flushed skin. The sound of cicadas is slowly growing louder in the tall grass behind them. Some kid scream-laughs in the distance. Gintoki closes his eyes and let’s himself simply exist for a moment.

It’s taken him a while to get to this point. A point where taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a short moment is enough.

There’s a bead of sweat making its way down the side of his neck and he manages to swipe at it with his chin before it gets to disappear under his shirt. 

Two hands, one smaller than the other, tangle themselves into his hair. There are heads on both of his shoulders now and Gintoki lets out a small, fond laugh. „What’s it with the two of you today…“ He asks, but he knows the answer. The kids know as well, so they say nothing in reply.

„Otae-chan dropped by our house yesterday and left us some fried rice and chicken… she said she’d be stopping by today as well.“ Says Shinpachi.

„She’s not so bad once you get used to her outbursts and masochism, is she?“

„That’s not a nice thing to say, Gin-chan.“ He’s doing his best to sound reprimanding but there’s a smile in Pachi‘s voice.

„We should probably repay her somehow, or she’ll hold it over our heads.“ Gintoki muses.

„I have a packet of sunkonbu stashed away for a bad day. We could give her that. It’s been laying around for a while anyway.“

Gintoki huffs out a laugh.

„Kagura-chan, what we do with trash is throw it out, not wrap it up as a gift.“ There’s no trace of the smile from ealier.

There’s a small thud and then Kagura’s holding her head, complaning about child abuse. „What was that for?! You even laughed!“

„As an adult, it’s my responsibility to raise you both into respectable human beings.“ Gintoki explains, his tv-father-figure voice slipping in. „Just because I laughed at you saying something, it doesn’t make it funny, even if it _was_ funny. This is about being,“ he rubs at the back of his head, „about being appropriate?“ His voice trails off.

„This is about Otae giving us food, isn’t it,“ Shinpachi says, deadpan.

„Isn’t that what I said?“

The boy sighs and takes off his upper shirt, tying it around his waist, before he ventures into the grass behind the bench.

„How does that make any sense.“ Kagura complains, rubbing the top of her head. With an angry groan, she bumps her head against Gintoki’s chest. „Pat it better for that nonsense explanation,“ she mumbles into his shirt. Gintoki smiles and brings his hands up to ruffle her hair.

„I didn’t hit you that hard, did I.“ Kagura lets out a small annoyed _mrrgh_ sound. „ _Oh,_ I did? I guess Gin-chan’s lucky to have a girl with a head this thick, the-“ This earns him a jab into his ribs.

As Gintoki is ruffling her hair, he feels something brush against his leg and looks down to see Pachinko waiting for them, tail wagging happily. He taps at Kagura’s head and nods downwards when she looks at him. There’s a huge grin on her face as they both bend down to pat the old dog’s head and once Shinpachi notices, he places the few flowers he‘s collected on the bench carefully to do the same.

„I was thinking we could watch a movie together tonight.“ Gintoki says, scratching Pachinko behind the ear.

The dog rolls over onto his back happily and the kids take that as an invitation to rub his belly.

„We could pick up one of those Ghebe- Ghible- … Greber?“

„Ghibli.“

 _„_ Whatever movies you brats like and invite some people over. It’s been a while, hasn’t it.“ A small blush appears on his cheeks as he mentions the invitations. Kagura and Shinpachi exchange knowing looks before nodding in agreement.

„Hey, hey! What was that look about?“ Gintoki squints as he looks between the two, but the only answer he gets is laughter as the kids get up and grab him by one arm each, bringing him up with them.

-

There’s a knock on the door but Gintoki is in the kitchen with his hands full so whoever it might be, they‘re going to have to let themselves in.

Once him and the kids returned Pachinko to the old lady who lives across the street and spent half an hour at her place after she noticed Shinpachi’s slightly red shoulders, they went to buy meat and vegetables. Halfway home Shinpachi remembered they didn’t have anything to drink back at home. After a bout of bickering and a small wrestling match, Shinpachi turned Kagura around back towards the konbini while Gintoki carried the groceries home and started on preparing dinner.

He’s switching between chopping vegetables and checking on the chicken in the oven. 

As he’s in the middle of pulling the chicken out to check how its coming along, there’s another knock on the door.

„Hands full! Come in!“ He shouts, careful not to burn himself. „..and take your shoes off!“ He adds as an aftethought.

Kagura’s lately gotten into the terrible habit of walking around the house in mud-covered shoes and it has awakened a need for cleanliness inside of Gintoki that he never knew he‘d had.

There’s a sound of door sliding open and a shout followed by the unmistakable _fhu-_ of someone tripping, trying to save himself and splattering on the ground. Then silence.

A few minutes pass before the door to the kitchen slides open.

„I made a bit of a mess by the entrance.“

Gintoki doesn’t abandon his chopping, but turns to see Hijikata standing in the doorway.

The man is completely red in the face. His work jacket is all crumpled and he’s letting out little huffs, clearly doing his best to seem put together and Gintoki can’t help but snicker into his fist.

„See, had I known taking your shoes off would be such a problem, I wouldn’t have asked you to do it.“ He says.

Hijikata runs a hand through his hair as he makes his way to Gintoki and places a light kiss on his temple.  
  
„It’s not my fault your genkan is more of a trap than a place to leave your shoes at, like it _should_ be.“ The shinsengumi vice captain shrugs his jacket off and throws it over the back of a chair nearest the door. Somehow, it’s become the Hijikata spot. No one questions it anymore, as even the kids leave it vacant in the mornings in case Hijikata decides to drop by.

„I’m so hungry we had to chase this weird guy across the entire town because he stole a cat?? can you believe it. Sometimes, cases like this make me question whether I chose the right profession.“ Hijikata rambles as he takes a glass from one of the cupboards, fills it with water and drinks it in one go, then refills it.

„He’s probably homeless, lives in one of these cardboard boxes in the park, you know where I mean,“ Gintoki makes a _uh-huh_ sound, nodding for Hijikata to keep going. „so we checked that place out, but he was gone. We told the higher ups, thinking it was no big deal – we could pick up on where we left off tomorrow, but they had us search the entire city,“

„For a cat, huh.“ Gintoki breathes out.

„Right?“ Hijikata nods, eyebrows drawn together. „There’s definitely more going on behind the scenes. Now that I think about it, when we were on the guys tail, he wasn’t even holding a cat, nor did he have a bag he could’ve been keeping it in… sure he could’ve hidden it somewhere but,“ he trails off.

For a moment he sips on the water, clearly deep in thought. Gintoki leaves him to it, having been in a similar situation with him multiple times.

„The weirdest thing is, as I was leaving the compound, I crossed paths with these guys in white suits, Mimawarigumi. With the main guy at the front, a whole squad of them making their way into our HQ. Stuck up pricks, didn’t even look at me and Sougo as they passed by us.“ He bites out.

„Mimawarigumi?“ Gintoki asks and slides chopped carrots onto the pan, then grabs a few onions from a basket he’s got by his right foot and starts peeling them.

„Mm, yeah.“ Hijikata nods distractedly, rolls his sleeves back and reaches out with his hand. Gintoki grabs the one unpeeled onion and gives it to him. „They are basically the right hand of the government, dealing with all the more shady stuff commoners aren’t aware of. In theory, we should be equals, but somewhere along the way they have become something akin to a gang rather than an extension of law. Though government would never openly agree with that.“ He explains, walking over to Gintoki’s right so he can throw out the peels.

„Especially the leader. There’s a bunch of rumours surrounding the guy,“

„…so, what you’re saying is that if they are involved, then it must have something to do with the government,“

„Most likely. It just doesn’t right right with me.“

Gintoki ponders on this for a moment.

„You’ll keep looking for him tomorrow? For the homeless guy?“

„We’ve been ordered to. Everything else is coming to a stop until we find him.“

„Then we’ll know more tomorrow,“ Gintoki says, his voice soft as he presses into Hijikata’s side reassuringly. „maybe it’ll really turn out to be a damn important government cat.“

Hijikata lets out a little uncertain _mmmh_ sound and they stand like that, peeling onions, when Hijikata remembers something, his hand almost slapping at his forehead if Gintoki wasn’t there to catch it.

„No onions on faces dumbass! Every single time!“ Gintoki reprimands and catches the almost peeled onion that Hijikata left behind before it rolls off the counter. „What is it anyway?“

„Towels, where do you have paper towels?“ Hijikata asks, wiping his hands on Gintoki’s apron. „I spilled something by the door and whoever’s coming in next is going to have a bad time.“

„And you didn’t know that 20 minutes ago. Whatever it is will have dried up by now.“

„What can I say, your company is enough to make me forget about everything else.“ Hijikata drawls, tone dripping with sugar as he searches the cupboards.

Gintoki sighs, opens the cupboard by his head and throws a couple paper towels at him.

„Don’t I know it. Go save the situation, vice commander.“

„Roger that.“ Hijikata ruffles Gintoki’s hair and manages to duck fast enough to not get hit as Gintoki swipes at him, then jogs out of the kitchen, sliding the door closed behind himself.  
  


-

The meal ended up turning out pretty much perfect. For Gintoki’s standards, anyway.

Glancing over the table as he‘s laying down cutlery next to the plates, he plops a piece of broccoli into his mouth. Golden, perfectly crispy chicken with a side of potatoes and vegetables. Absolutely mouth-watering and smells _a-mazing._ Otae’s jaw is going to hit the floor once she sees this. No more jokes about burnt pancakes on the walls.

Gintoki takes a step back and stretches before looking the table over. Oh yeah.

He can’t help feeling a little proud of himself.

It’s really hard to believe that this is who he gets to be now. Just a guy with a relatively normal job, who cooks for his kids, boyfriend and friends every other week. His fingers gather at the fabric over his heart.

_My kids._

He whispers these words to himself a few times before a giddy smile slips onto his lips.

„Aw, man,“

These feelings, they are something entirely new to him. He’s always loved the kids, of course he did, but the feeling has been layered by fear. When he had arrived here, to this part of the town, two traumatized kids on either side, he had no clue where to go. Then Otose waltzed into his life with Otae in tow. Then old man Gengai and a year after that, Hijikata showed up out of nowhere. Fear of losing them, fear of his – no - of _their_ past coming back to drag them wherever they had been meant to be dragged on that night four years ago. It kept him up at night for the longest time.

But lately – or the past months - the fears have been wearing away. With each day it becomes a touch easier to settle into what life is now and see it for what it could be.

Gintoki sinks into Hijikata’s chair. It creaks slightly as he throws his arm over the back of it and watches the sun slowly set outside.

The entire kitchen is covered in soft, orange light that paints the walls in all kinds of shapes. He can hear a bunch of kids passing by the front of the house, stones crunching under their feet.

Propping his head up on the palm of his hand, he takes a deep breath. If he pays attention, Gintoki can hear Hijikata still scrubbing away in the corridor and the occasional swears that escape him.

Gintoki sits like that for a bit before standing up to pour himself a glass of strawberry milk. His face gets illuminated by the white light from the fridge as he searches around for a cartoon with the logo _Itsugo_ surrounded by little dancing strawberries with smiley faces. It’s a brand Kagura’s been buying him for a while now. She said it’s healthier than the „slug food“ he used to drink, so Gintoki had no choice but to switch. Taking a sip, he settles down again, cartoon in hand as he watches the sky outside slowly turn dark blue. 

He used to spend the few rare late afternoons like this with Shoyo.

Between planning out their operations, cutting down kid trafficking pigs, corrupt assholes and saving the poor kids and people caught in between, their little group sometimes managed to sit down and properly drink their brains out.

Well, they called these gatherings tactical meetings anyway.

And in a way, they were.

Him, Zura, Takasugi, Tatsumoto and Shoyo joined by whoever was brave or stupid enough to fight by their side at the time. It always began with exhausted, demure silence and ended in a screamfest to see who had messed up the most.

It was mostly Gintoki, but naturally, he’d never admit to it.

So he yelled, smacked their heads and laughed his ass off as he watched them slowly turn and argue amongst themselves. The new guys always ended up getting dragged in, faces red and eyes blown open in confusion. If they were still around by the time morning itself came around, they were cleared of all suspicion, because no matter how great of a spy one was, he or she wasn’t getting through one of these _strategy meetings_ without blowing cover.

These were great times in their own, inexplicable way. He couldn’t bring himself to think of it any differently. But they were tough times as well. Most of the time, if he was being honest with himself.

Waking up to one or more of his body parts hurting was more common than the other way around and there was this constant sense of dread at the back of his mind. Be it dread caused by the idea of losing someone from their group, messing up and blowing their chances of saving the kids, of being found out and hunted down, or of Isaburo sticking his fingers where he’s not supposed to.

Those fears came true more often than not. Not a single week had gone by without them losing something. Or someone.

The deeper into the trafficking underground they got, the smaller chance they had of crawling out whole at the end of the entire thing.

But no one else had been willing to do what had to be done, so they did it. And god damn, they were pretty good at it. Still, no matter how good they were, after all was said and done - Gintoki was here now.

And they weren’t.

Gintoki blinks a few times, his hand smoothing over the cool surface of the edge of the table. The room has gone dark.

Getting up, he grabs the extra cutlery he didn’t need and sorts it back into the drawer.

The cutlery inside makes a clinging sound as he closes the drawer and moves over to the window to look outside. Otae and the rest should be arriving soon. She had probably dropped by Otose’s shop for something to drink.

It’s getting a bit late, but the air is still warm.

The street below is alive with people rushing from one place to the other. Salesmen, couples and gangs of kids with their battle bugs and Jumps in their backpacks. 

There’s also a trash bin in front of the house that he was supposed to bring in and he smacks his forehead, turning to go get it, but before he does, he notices someone leaning against one of the columns, staring up into the window.

Gintoki stops in his tracks and looks the smudge of a guy over. He stares at him, determining whether it’s just a coincidence or whether he’s _possibly_ dealing with a creep.

The guy seems undeterred, returning his gaze – or that’s what Gintoki guesses, what with the weird old man dark tinted glasses the guy is wearing. If anything the weirdo straightens up and starts fishing for something in his pockets. He’s got on a brown coat that goes a bit below his waist. His movements are shaky, but not in the normal, what-am-i-doing way. Gintoki furrows his eyebrows.

Maybe they know each other?

He raises his hand, sending him a half-hearted wave to see how the guy reacts.

Before Gintoki can get his hand above his head, the guy whips out a little silver box, holds it a bit above his head and there’s a flash of white.

Gintoki recoils slightly and stares at him, dumbfounded, hand still in mid air.

Did the creep just take a picture?

His blood rushes a bit faster as he fumbles with the window and opens it, but as he looks down at the spot the guy was at before, it’s empty. Poking his head out of the window, he scans the street in both directions but there’s no brown coat to be seen.

With the window closed, Gintoki runs a hand through his hair and finds himself pacing around the tiny kitchen. Maybe it was a coincidence. No one should know who he is. Not in these parts, he’s made sure of it. He does work as a host, anyway, so this wouldn’t bet he first time someone went to weird lengths to get a picture of him.

Doesn’t change the fact that this is the first time it’s felt this … off. The guy seemed stressed out. Deadlines, maybe?

He hears voices outside. Soon enough, the front door is smacking against the frame as it opens. There’s a loud thud and Gintoki’s head whips towards the sound, hand shooting to his katana-less hip instinctively. However, the next second it becomes obvious it must‘ve been someone tripping and landing on the floor as what follows is an eruption of familiar voices yelling over each other. 

Gintoki wipes his suddenly sweaty hands on the front of his strawberry apron and takes it off, flinging it over the handle of the oven.

He’ll … he’ll look into the creep business tomorrow. It’s not the first time a creep has found his address and neither will it be the the first time he‘s efficiently dealt with him.

Fixing up his hair a little bit, he grabs a few paper towels from the cupboard,

By the time he gets to the entrance, the yelling has already turned into laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is difficult as hell and I'll never look at people who write for a living the same way ever again, lol.
> 
> Anyway, no new tags. There's some swearing in this chapter, but that's about it.
> 
> If you notice anything that needs to be tagged or typos, please let me know.
> 
> I appreciated your comments a lot!
> 
> Enjoy.

„You heard me well enough the first time!“ Otae yells from the kitchen.

„Everytime you pull something like this, Gin-chan can’t help getting worried about your mental health, Otae-chan.“

„Hi- _larious_. You’d better get it tiger or you’re gonna be late,“ She singsongs, terribly helpful. There’s a pause where Gintoki imagines Otae checking her watch. „More late than you already are, anyway.“

Gintoki rolls his eyes and reaches blindly below the bathroom sink, all the way towards the back where the tube meets the tile wall. „Can you explain to me,“ his fingers brush against something solid stuck against the porcelain and grab it. „Why exactly do we keep spare toothpaste glued against the bottom of the sink?“

„It’s not me who’s keeping around two wild cubs who can’t keep their hands off of the weirdest things. If anything I’m doing you a favour, because without my _timely_ interventions, you wouldn’t have a single toothpaste left in this house. Or toothbrushes, for that matter.“

„ _Faegh ehnugh,“_ Gintoki gurgles as he’s already brushing his teeth, making sure he doesn’t miss a spot. Drawing his lips back in a grimace, he checks to make sure he won’t be carrying bits of breakfast to work. He likes to think his smile is his selling point and as such has to be protected.

Once satisfied, he turns on the faucet and spits the foam out, watching as the white-ish water slowly whirls towards the drain.

 _The kids have been up to some weird stuff lately_ , Gintoki frowns at the last white bits getting sucked away and turns the water off.

Things have been disappearing around the house for a while now - old clothes and utensils, food, toiletries…

Gintoki hasn‘t exactly been upset about it, because they’re not short on money and all of the items that got spirited away are either easily replaceable or were just laying around for ages… but it does kind of weird him out.

As a father figure he should probably intervene, right? Step in and ask what’s going on? Shine light on the right path or whatever it’s called?

 _Wouldn’t want the kids to think I’m against whatever they’re doing, though._ Gintoki debates with himself as he spreads sunscreen across his cheeks, nose and forehead. 

Opening a cabinet to his right, he grabs a bottle of hair gel and squirts a bit onto his hand, then rubs his hands together and runs them through his hair, front to back, fingers working through a few tangles. _But what if they get themselves into a mess because of it?_

Just last week, he had caught Shinpachi sneaking out with a backpack that was near bursting, if the socks hanging over and out of it were any indication.

It had been by a complete accident. The boy would have gotten away with it, if Gintoki hadn‘t woken up from sheer hunger.

So, there was Gintoki, mid-yawn and heading for the kitchen when he noticed Shinpachi in their Genkan doing his best to wrestle his boots on as fast as possible, with the least amount of noise possible.

They both froze as they noticed each other’s presence.

Before Gintoki could’ve said anything, the boy was on his feet and shooting towards the door, hurtling out something about a school project and being late and then he was gone. Gintoki had surveyed the genkan then, and noticed that Kagura’s shoes were gone, too, as was her backpack.

It was from that point that he started noticing the missing things more.

Checking himself out in the mirror, he flashes a wink at his reflection and puts back the hair gel bottle. Before leaving the bathroom, he remembers to grab the toothpaste and attach it back in its place under the sink.

He tries to recall what the tv-father-figure guy said about how sometimes letting things flow is the finest decision one can make when it comes to fatherhood, or… something. Gintoki isn’t sure it would apply to this situation.

Oh well, he’s going to have a talk with them. Catch them before leaving for school? Maybe. It’ll be fine.

Quickly swiping a balm across his lips before throwing it into his pocket, he walks into the kitchen.

„Shinpachi is such a sweet kid for getting me these,“ Otae drawls from where she’s sitting by the kitchen table near the window. Gintoki notices she’s sipping tea from a little pink cup she’d been given by Kagura for her birthday ages ago.

„I wonder who he gets this caring nature after,“ she smiles, fingers of her free hand playing with the yellow petals of the little flower bouquet proudly sitting in the middle of the table.

„The boy seemed to have been really enjoying himself yesterday. Did you notice?“ she asks with a twinkle in her eye.

Gintoki walks over to the kitchen counter and pours a cup of tea for himself. It‘s a white cup with a strawberry print that appears once the cup is filled with hot-enough liquid. Christmas gift from Otae.

„Was he?“ he asks nonchalantly, fingers wrapping around the cup handle. Otae grins behind her cup.

„He was on cloud nine for most of the night - never seen him laugh that much.“ 

„Really,“ Gintoki draws the word out, turning to face Otae so his back is leaning against the counter.“ Gin-chan had probably been too invested in the Gheybler movie to pay attention to Pachi.“

„I’m sure he was.“ Otae leans back into her chair and tips her head back, releasing a sigh. She spends a few seconds trailing the ceiling with her eyes.

Gintoki watches her, blowing on the cup he’s holding, hurrying it to cool down.

“He’s finally opening up, you know.“

„Y-Yeah,“ Gintoki does his best to conceal the little acrobatic flip his heart does when the words leave her mouth, „yeah, he is. Him and Kagura are also taking bunch of stuff and stashing it somewhere like beavers.“ he adds with a huff, hoping Otae doesn’t notice the misdirect - partly because he’s kind of worried and in need of advice and partly because, well, he’s not good at talking about this entire parent thing and wants to avoid going down that road this early in the morning.

„So there’s that.“

„Hmm, it _is_ a bit strange, but they’re kids, Gin. I had been leading wars against my neighbours at their age, so this is still within the norm.“ she assures him. „Whatever it is they are doing, I am sure it’s not anything bad. They wouldn’t do that to you.“

„Right,“ Gintoki clips out. The tips of his ears turn slightly pink.

Otae shifts her attention from the ceiling to Gintoki and watches him with a small, knowing smile.

„Say, yesterday,”

Gintoki makes a questioning _hmm_ sound as he takes a gulp of tea.

„when you came to help us clean Gengai off the floor, you seemed a bit shaken up. What was that about?“

He laughs, a sound of pure disbelief. „Of course you’d notice.“

„You know me, I’d never miss out on a potentional secret,“ Otae grins and her eyes narrow calculatingly before her face is turning a tad more serious. „So?“

„I didn’t want to bring it up yesterday, what with the kids and Hijikata being around,“

Otae nods. Bringing up anything even close to serious in front of the two cubs is rarely a good idea, _especially_ when the big bad wolf is lurking around as well.

„There was this guy,“ Gintoki pushes himself away from the counter and walks over to the table. „he was standing outside on the street, his eyes glued to our window.“ Gintoki confesses, sitting down across from Otae and placing his cup on the table.

„I noticed him when I was on lookout for you guys and, to be honest, when I first saw him I didn’t think much of him, you know,“ he ruffles the back of his hair with his hand, „this wouldn’t be the first time a fan tracked me down to take a picture of me, but-„  
  
„He took a picture?“ Otae raises her eyebrow questioningly, „of you in the window? From the street?“

„It’s weird, I know,“ Gintoki takes a sip from the cup, „that picture would be worth absolutely nothing if he planned to sell it to a fanclub or something. I mean, even if he was planning to keep it for himself for whatever reason, it’d be pretty garbage quality - it had been pretty dark by that point.“

Otae nods again, her hand coming up to worry over her lower lip.

„Last night, it got me thinking. The guy seemed nervous – the bad kinda nervous – where your hands shake because you’re doing something you’re not supposed to. He,“ Gintoki criss-croosses a little scratch on the surface of the table with his finger, „he must’ve been waiting there for a _while_. He must’ve known I wouldn’t be leaving the house for the rest of the day. It’s just – it’s weirding me out.“

They both turn to their tea, thinking, before Gintoki gloats,„I mean, we both know I’m hot, but to go thi-“ Otae smacks at his shoulder before he can finish.

„Not funny! Whatever this guys‘ deal was, it creeps me the hell out! I mean waiting for _hours_ on end outside of your window for a smudge of a picture? That’s a huge, decisive _no_ from me,“ she grabs at her shoulders as an involuntary shiver runs through her, „have you told Hijikata?“

„You haven’t, have you.“ She knows him too well.

Gintoki shakes his head.

„He’s got enough on his plate as it is,“ he tips his head back, finishing his tea and slides his chair back as he gets up.

„Gin,“ Otae starts, standing up from her seat as well, „it’s a huge if, but what if it _is_ Isabu-“

„I know!“ Gintoki interrupts her, his voice rising slightly. „I know, alright. I’ve been thinking about that the entire night…but,“ he rubs the side of his neck in frustration, „what if it’s _not_ him. What if I stress Hijikata out for nothing like I’ve done so many times before.“

Otae searches his face for something. After a few moments she seems to make her mind up with a loud exhale.

„Fine, it’s your call,“ she agrees. „for _now_.“ Taking his cup from him and straightening the hem of his shirt, she stands back and looks him over. „I’ll keep my eyes open and ask some of the girls at work to pay closer attention to the people who hang around work as well,“

„ _You_ ’re a goddess in human bod-“

„ _But!_ “ Otae brings her pointer finger up, „if I see a single distress signal coming from your direction you can be _damn_ sure I’m going straight to Hijikata, no questions asked. Understood?“

Gintoki opens his mouth to argue, but she waves her finger in front of his face in a _no-no_ gesture before asking again „No excuses. I want a yes or no.“

„Fine, fine“ Gintoki concedes, throwing his arms up in defeat before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. „You know,“ he says, squeezing her shoulder softly, „you really should be a policewoman. Streets would be safer than ever with you smacking bad guys left and right.“

„And our club would go down in flames, no thank you.“ She laughs, leaning into the half hug before freeing herself and pushing him lightly towards the door. „Now get going! I’ll be coming in around 6. Make sure the place is still standing when I get there.“

„Roger that.“ Gintoki salutes and heads for the door, stopping by the wooden frame to look at Tae.

„Thanks for sticking around for breakfast, the kids loved it.“ He says, a sheepish look on his face he gets only when talking about the kids. Tae’s secretly proud of being one of the few people who get to see it.

„Yeah, yeah, now shoo!“ she gestures with her hands. “Don’t forget to take an umbrella! It’s supposed to rain tonight.”

„What would I do without you.” Gintoki flashes her a smile and slides the door closed behind himself.

He doesn’t see Otae’s worried look as she listens to him leave the house.

„I don’t even want to imagine.” She mumbles, turning to the sink to clean the cups.

-

„…and so I slapped him because there was no way around it.”

Gintoki watches bemusedly as the violet-haired woman standing before him picks at her nails as if none of this concerned her. It’s the same every time and as always, she’s not helping this situation whatsoever and while Gintoki _understands_ that getting felt-up by dirty old men isn’t in her job description, punching the lights out of them definitely _isn’t_ , either.

There are … _protocols_ put in place for similar situations so the club would avoid outcomes likes this one – namely a guy knocked out cold on the floor with a red mark suspiciously reminiscent of that of an open palm.

Snorting and smacking his lips, the old man on the ground turns onto his side. Gintoki purses his upper lip and flips his phone open to message Otae, then snaps it closed and puts it into his chest pocket.

They were about to close for the night, too. Now that he thinks of it, this might actually be lucky, in a way. He wouldn’t want to deal with this when the place is full of people. He’s already been through that enough times and has no need for a repeat.

Gintoki sighs, pokes at the guy with his foot experimentally and when that provokes no reaction, he frowns and brings hands up to his temples to give them a small massage.

This guy is obviously staying gone for a while, clearly beyond drunk before Sarutobi managed to sucker punch him to oblivion. She’s too good at her job. No one, but this violet haired, red glassed devil could vacuum a person’s money from them like that, knock them out and walk away feeling no remorse.

Honestly, her being this good at her job is the only reason these monthly hospital fees are worth it.

That and Gintoki enjoying her company. That might have to do something with it. She’s cast a spell on everyone working here and they all damn well know it.

„Tell the guys on guard today to get him to the hospital. Remind them to use the company card,” he nods towards the body on the floor. „Maybe if we’re lucky, he won’t remember anything when he wakes up. But eh, even if he does, it won’t matter. It _was_ self-defense, right?”

Sarutobi throws her hair over her shoulder and adjusts her glasses with her pinky finger before curtly nodding.

„I wouldn’t touch a pig like this otherwise.” She sneers at the old man before stepping over him as she heads towards the exit. „I’m going home, I’ll let the guys know. The changing rooms and backrooms are clean, lights are off and doors locked. Once you clean this up, you can close shop.” Sarutobi recites, words second nature by this point.

She’s always the last hostess to leave, the two of them staying behind to make sure everything is packed up and cleaned before the last light is turned off. After this comes the cleaning crew, but they know where to leave the keys.

The click-clacking of Sarutobi’s heels comes to a stop. „Unless you need me for anything else?” Gintoki doesn’t need to look up to know she’s standing by the exit. This has been their little ritual ever since he needed someone to help him drink his brains out a couple months ago.

There are nights when he’d take her up on the offer, but tonight’s not one of them.

She doesn’t wait long and Gintoki doesn’t bother replying. They’re both tired. The sound of rain hitting the pavement fills the room for a few seconds before the door swings closed behind her.

Gintoki squats next to the man’s head. The old man seems happy enough for someone who got knocked out. _See, money and booze makes everything better. For a while,_ Gintoki thinks, amusedly _._

-

Sitting on an old trashcan isn’t the most comfortable, but his body is tired and his ass is numb so he doesn’t mind that much.

„Stop laughing! If anything, I should be hearing how sorry you are about all this happening to old, poor me. How come you manage to avoid the worst shifts every single time?” Gintoki complains, head leaning back against the wall. „Is it karma? It must be karma, right. Have I not saved enough cats crossing the road, is that it?” Otae laughs from the other end.

It’s been an hour since Sarutobi left and he’s still here.

To be exact, he’s in the side alley by the the club because he needed some fresh air to keep himself awake. The rain is still falling, heavier and heavier as time goes by. Gintoki finds he doesn’t mind it, hidden just enough so the rain doesn’t get to him.

He listens to the sound of Otaes voice over the rain hitting the ground, plastic containers and trash cans laying on the ground of the slightly crammed space. Stretching his legs before crossing them, Gintoki glances over the littered ground by his feet and makes a mental check to finally have this place cleaned out.

Otae talks about her day, the dish she’s cooking and about the kids coming home dirty from head to toe. Gintoki asks her what that’s about, but she says they wouldn’t tell her the truth and that she made them both promise to confess everything to him once they get home from school tomorrow and that’s enough for him. He really doesn't have a choice.

_Not like I can do anything about it now.  
  
_

Otae says she’s not too worried as they weren’t hurt just dirty like rats.

„The clean-up should be there soon,” She muses after a short silence filled with only the _clink clank_ sounds of rain hitting the alley.

„Huh? Oh- yeah,” Gintoki rolls back a sleeve to check his watch. „They said 30 minutes 40 minutes ago, so I’d _hope_ so. Makes me wonder what can hold back a cleaning crew at 11 at night.”

„I wonder. Guess you’d better make them come clean about it once they arrive.” Otae says, deadpan.

„Kondo is a bad influence on you, I will always stand by that.”

„He’s the best influence I could’ve wished for.” Otae boasts. Gintoki can imagine her grinning from cheek to cheek.

A car passes by, splashing water onto the curb and flashing lights down the alley.

His phone buzzes and Gintoki checks the incoming message.

„Lucky me. Seems like they’re here in 10 minutes.” He says, clearly a bundle of joy. „I’ll go wait by the front,”

„Got it. You got an umbrella with you? I can hear the rain from your end, sounds a bit like a marching band.”

„Yep, thanks for that, by the way. And for keeping me awake – I swear my eyes are getting glued closed, bit by bit.”

„Uh-huh. I’m gonna go finish cooking and feed the wolves. Lucky me they seem really tired out. Tired _enough_ to be playing monopoly with your man, don’t ask me how that happened.”

„Lucky them that you’re not playing with, huh?” Gintoki laughs and quickly says his goodbyes, closing the phone just as he hears Otae firing back.

Getting up from the trash can, he raises his arms as far as they can go and gives his entire body a good stretch. _God, I really need to start working out more,_ he grumbles inwardly as his back pops in multiple places.

„Sakata-san,” Calls a raspy voice coming from the street.

Jumping a little in surprise, Gintoki turns towards the stranger, hand moving to cover the pocket with his phone in it. „Y-Yeah? Need anything?” He asks apprehensively. „How do you know my name?” 

He squints his eyes, but the person’s face is covered by a hood. Tall with broad shoulders. Cleary that's a male. _This is like one of those bad-end kind of game scenarios._

The dude is sporting an over-the-head, green raincoat and seems content standing still as he watches Gintoki, who’s getting soaked and is slowly working himself up into a state of panic.

„Dude, seriously, what’s up with you? You’re creeping me out.” Silence. _Great._

Gintoki quickly surveys his surroundings and figures that he doesn’t really have anywhere to go but forward.

„See, normally this is the point where you introduce yourself, otherwise whoever you’re talking to might think you’re planning to kill them,” Gintoki explains and a high-pitched panicked laugh escapes him. _Why the hell isn’t he talking? Speech impairment? Why do I always have to deal with weird-ass situations like this?!_

Taking a cautious step backwards, his shoe lands on a piece of plastic that cracks under the pressure. Gintoki’s eyes snap towards it before snapping back to the stranger, who’s now barreling towards him with big strides.

 _Ohh shit, OKAY, calm, calm CAL-_ „So – I don’t believe we know each other? I’d like you to stay _right there_!? Whoever you are?!”

The raincoat either isn’t listening or simply doesn’t give a damn because soon enough Gintoki is backed up into the wall with both of his arms extended in front of him to keep some distance between them.

„He mustn’t know that I was here.” The man finally forces out and Gintoki can’t help himself from letting his jaw drop dumbly. _Huh?_

„Huh? What the _fuck_ is this – some kind of intimidation scheme? Are you here on the orders of some dissatisfied customer or something, because this is _not_ how you fill a complaint,” Gintoki seethes, „What do you mean he can’t know – you’re making _no_ sense _whatsoever_.”

His clothes are soaked through and he has to blink rapidly to clear his eyes from the rain.

Raincoat doesn’t respond. His mouth is drawn back in a deep frown.

„I was this close to a heart attack,” Gintoki forces out in the calmest tone he can manage, but it really comes out more as a wheeze, holding his thumb and index finger centimetres from each other. „Who told you cornering someone in a trash- _wait_ ,“

Now that the guy is standing right in front of him, Gintoki notices a hem of what is most likely a brown coat sticking out from below the raincoat and – are those _sunglasses_? In the middle of the night? _Oh the piece of-_ „It’s _you_!” Gintoki points his finger at the man accusingly before flipping his cape back to get a good look at his face. „It is! Man, what’s _wrong_ with you?!” He half-yells.

„I came to apologize,” the man says, voice gruff, clearly unbothered about getting soaked. He’s putting most of his weight on his right foot, Gintoki notices.

„ _Apolo_ \- I thought I was getting _murdered_!” Gintoki throws his hands up and lets himself fall against the wall behind him. He forces his eyes closed and exhales deeply to regain some semblance of calm.

Raincoat watches Gintoki with something akin to pity.

„I want you to know - I didn’t, _don't_ want to do this.” The man begins to explain, but Gintoki waves his hand dismissively, „Now that I’m not getting murdered a few bad-quality pictures really don’t bother me. You seriously should start working on your inter-personal skills though, because like _this_ -“  
  
„You _don’t_ understand!” raincoat cuts him off loudly and punches the wall next to Gintoki’s head. His voice is laced with desperation. 

Gintoki doesn’t flinch away from the sudden movement or the insane switch of the man’s personality. He straightens up and takes a second to look the guy over properly.

The man is, for the lack of better word, banged up. Exhausted. With a haunted glint to his eyes.

The raincoat he’s wearing is filled with holes. Only one thing makes holes this perfectly circular. It would explain the limp, too. Gintoki grabs a sleeve and hooks a finger through one of the holes before looking up into the guys’ face, expression serious, red eyes searching.

„Who were the pictures for.” Gintoki asks, voice monotone. He knows the answer. There’s no need to play dumb but he wants to hear it.

„He knows,” raincoat all but whispers, his words nearly drowned out by the heavy rain falling around them. „I don’t know who or how, but someone tipped him off yesterday. He’s been searching for you for a while but,” the man looks to the ground, „no one here is willing to sell you out. You’ve helped all of us, in one way or another.”

_For all the good it does me._

Gintoki unhooks his finger and, using the wall at his back, sinks to the ground slowly, not saying anything.

„I… my wife. She’s sick. He-He promised money to whoever knew your whereabouts and _I_ \- _please,_ understand,” the man sinks to his knees in front of Gintoki, forehead pressed against the pavement and Gintoki watches him with half-lidded eyes, emotions warring for dominance in his chest. „I went to tell him but-but I changed my mind and wanted to leave and he,” the man gulps, „he had his men chase me down. And now…”

„…I need to bring him the pictures or he’ll kill me and my wife. Sakata-san, if you feel it right to take my life, I wouldn’t, …” He sobs into the ground.

Gintoki listens to the old man’s sobs, fists clenched.

He should be angry, furious – and he’d have every right to feel that way, fuck, even the guy himself recognizes how messed up this entire thing is – he could punch and kick the life out of this sorry excuse for a man for leading Isaburo right to his doorstep.

Watching as the rain pounds the man’s messy, brown hair, Gintoki huffs as he remembers raincoats face from a few months back.

Him and Hijikata had gone out for one of their night walks through the city park and came across a body sprawled out across a bench. It had been cold as hell by that point. When they found him, Hijikata had been vehement about calling the police, so they bickered a bit, but, in the end, they shook him awake. Hijikata slapped him a few times to make sure he wasn’t on drugs and to let out his frustration, probably, but then gave him enough money for a cab ride home. The guy had been so grateful he cried.

Gintoki tilts his head back, closing his eyes. _Guess karma and black cats aren’t involved when it comes to me_ , he muses, lips forming a parody of a smile.

The rain’s almost stopped.

„Your wife,” Gintoki says, „the money he’s going to give you once you,” his voice trails off for a moment, „will it be enough?”

He doesn’t bother looking when he hears the man moving and when he doesn’t get a response, Gintoki nods. „That’s something, at least.”

A buzz in his pocket alerts Gintoki to the cleaning crew’s arrival and – through monumental power of will alone - he forces himself to get up from the ground. Raincoat is sitting at his feet, gazing up at him with reverence in his eyes.

„Don’t look at me like that, old man, it creeps me out,” Gintoki bites out. His own voice sounds strangely dull to his ears.

„Get up, for gods’ sake, your life isn’t just your own,” he grabs him by the coat and brings him to his feet, „you don’t get to weep over yourself in a back alley, not when you have someone waiting for you at home.”

„Go home, dry yourself off and learn to cook for your lady or something. I swear if I see you moping around, I’ll kick your sorry ass,” Gintoki growls lowly, grabbing the old man by the collar, „you don’t get to do that, do you understand?” When the guy just blinks at him, Gintoki shakes him for good measure and raincoat finally nods, eyes wide.

Gintoki puts him back on his feet and shakes water out of his hair, body shivering slightly as he makes his way out of the alley. He doesn’t need to check to know that the old man is following him.

„Boss, everything ok?” The cleaning crew is waiting by the entrance, all of them watching with questioning looks. Gintoki realizes that seeing him - soaked all the way to the bone - and this disheveled old man coming out of a side alley probably seems suspicious, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

With a glance to his right, he nods to the old man, „Get going. Remember what I said.” Raincoat nods and shuffles down the pavement. There’s a necessity to his step that wasn’t there before. Gintoki watches him until he disappears behind a corner, then turns to the crew waiting for him.

They all seem to want to ask questions, but none do.

Sighing, he walks over to the door and unlocks it, feelings their gazes on his back. „You guys are in for a fun time,” he says, opening the door and letting them in. „The place is a mess.”

They file inside, one after another, unsure whether to laugh or not.


End file.
